


Another Great Escape

by Magicofisis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Friendship, Hogwarts Era, The Quidditch Pitch: From Diagon Alley to Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-28
Updated: 2005-09-28
Packaged: 2018-10-27 17:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10813512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magicofisis/pseuds/Magicofisis
Summary: Harry





	Another Great Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

_I ain’t takin’ shit off no one_  
Baby that was yesterday  
I’m an all American rebel  
Making my big getaway  
Yeah you know it’s time  
I gotta fly 

_Like Steve McQueen_  
All I need’s a fast machine  
I’m gonna make it all right  
Like Steve McQueen  
Underneath your radar screen  
You’ll never catch me tonite 

~ from _Steve McQueen_ by Sheryl Crow

~*~*~

Vernon Dursley was not having a good summer. It wasn’t enough that Dudley had been placed on probation by the local police for being out after curfew, meaning that Dudley’s obnoxious friends were in the house until all hours of the night. Vernon had had so much trouble concentrating on his business due to lack of sleep, that he nearly lost the patronage of his best customer for high-end drills. Then, there was also _that boy_.

If Vernon was honest with himself, he would have realized that Harry was the least of his troubles. Unable to leave the premises even for a walk to the play park, Harry had spent most of his time holed up in his small upstairs bedroom. But Vernon was never honest with himself – least of all when it came to Harry – and the fact that he knew the boy to be communicating with those…people was just too much to bear. Send someone around, they would. And he was absolutely certain they’d do it if he gave them the least cause.

Since he couldn’t vent his frustration at his favorite target, Vernon was reduced to going for walks in the evening by himself just to get out of his noisy house. “Stupid Little Whinging police!” he grumbled to no one.

He was on his way home, just turning onto Wisteria Walk, when he spotted the odd-looking fellow. Vernon knew right away that the man was one of them. How dare they watch his house. He hadn’t so much as laid a finger on Harry all summer, but apparently, complying with their unreasonable demands did not free him from their unwanted interference. He sped up, his righteous indignation mounting with each step. At the intersection with Privet Drive, he saw another one. This one wasn’t even trying to fit in; he was wearing one of those silly cloaks like the ones Vernon had seen in his mother-in-law’s old photograph albums before the pictures were destroyed.

Vernon stormed into the house, slammed the door and shouted, “Harry! Here! Now!” at the top of his voice. Petunia gingerly poked her head into the room to see what the fuss was all about, and Harry arrived – casually sauntering into the room as if he had all the time in the world – to see Vernon’s face purple with rage.

“Your bloody protectors are out there watching our house!” he shouted. “I will not have them invading our privacy and risk the neighbors finding out about your…abnormality!”

“Please stop shouting, Uncle Vernon,” said Harry with a sigh. “How do you know this?”

“Standing right on the corner they were!” Vernon shouted again. He suddenly remembered that one of the neighbors might be listening and said in a hushed voice, “One chap was even wearing one of those funny cloaks.”

“There was more than one?”

Vernon nodded. “Two of them. You’d think these people would have something better to do than stand around all day watching my house.”

“I don’t see how it could be them. They watched me all last summer and I never saw them once. And they would know better than to wear cloaks. You sure they aren’t just some Goth teenagers?”

“Those were no teenagers.” Vernon reached out and grabbed the front of Harry’s shirt right under the neck. He pulled Harry forward so that Harry could feel Uncle Vernon’s breath on his face. “Listen, boy,” he said in a deathly quiet voice. “You contact those freaks and tell them they can watch you all they want, but it won’t be in my neighborhood. I want you out of here by tomorrow afternoon.”

“No!” Petunia stepped fully into the room, lightly placing a hand on Vernon’s arm. “As much as we don’t want him here, we have to let him stay.” Harry made to speak, but Petunia shushed him. “Vernon, it’s for our own safety as well as his. Think about Dudley.”

Vernon narrowed his eyes, staring from Harry to Petunia and back to Harry again. Finally, he spoke. “You tell these people that I am not exaggerating when I say that if I see one more weirdo in the vicinity of this house, I will personally – and with much glee – throw you out on your arse. Am I clear?”

“Oh yeah. Very clear. You act as if I actually want to stay here. That’s a laugh. If there were any way I could leave here and stay alive, you can be sure I’d have done it by now.” Harry turned on his heel and headed back to his room. He looked back at Uncle Vernon before he left. “Where did you see them?”

“One was on Wisteria Walk with a bird’s eye view into our back yard, and the other – the bloke in the funny clothes – was standing right against the wall at the end of Privet Drive. Couldn’t have been more bloody obvious.”

Vernon glanced at Petunia with irritation. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to have a stiff brandy. Perhaps two. Then I’m going to bed and hope that when I wake up, that boy will be gone for good.”

With trembling hands, he poured a drink and muttered to himself, “No wonder I can’t concentrate. Damned queer folk.”

~*~*~

By the time Harry reached his room, his brain was in a tizzy. There’s no way those wizards watching the house could be in the Order. And if they were and he really required two guards now, then something really bad must be happening. He paced the floor for a minute, sat down at his desk and picked up his quill, and promptly set it back down again. He could write to Dumbledore, but that would take a long time, and really, what would he say? If only he could see who they were – then he’d be able to tell Dumbledore which Order members were doing a less-than-adequate job of spying on him.

Harry walked over to his trunk, thinking there might be a telescope spell or something in his Charms book that would help him see far away things. As he rummaged through his possessions, his hand brushed against something promising. From underneath the clothes, he pulled out the omnioculars that he’d bought two years ago at the Quidditch World Cup. Brilliant! He wouldn’t even have to risk another inquiry from the Improper Use of Magic Office.

Hiding behind the curtains so that he could remain undetected to a wizard who might be watching the window, Harry peered out in the direction of Wisteria Walk. He scanned up and down the street, the yards, the houses. A sudden movement caught his eye, and he was able to catch a glimpse of a wizard hiding in some bushes. Since it was nearly dusk, it was difficult to identify the person. Harry kept his eyes trained on the figure, which eventually moved to another hiding spot on the street. As he passed under a street lamp, Harry got a perfect view of him, recorded dutifully with his omnioculars. There was no mistaking the wizard: he was the spitting image of his son, Gregory Goyle. And Harry knew for sure that Goyle’s father was a Death Eater; Voldemort had said Goyle’s name that night in the cemetery when he returned.

Harry raced to his aunt and uncle’s room, which was at the front of the house. Leaving the lights off, he crept to the window and looked out. This time it was relatively easy to spot the spy. He was wearing a muted orange baseball cap that looked strangely out of place with his dark billowing robes. Harry chuckled to himself – who did this guy think he was fooling with the cap? He adjusted the omnioculars until he was able to clearly see the wizard’s face. Harry couldn’t be positive, but he looked a lot like Marcus Flint, the former captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Could it be him, or maybe an older brother? Well, no matter – it was obviously not an Order member.

Having identified the two spies as Death Eaters, Harry quickly scanned the neighborhood as best he could. There were no other suspicious characters. Now all he had to do was decide what to do about them.

He snuck back to his room, carefully passing Dudley’s room where light-hearted music was blaring from a video and flopped onto his bed to consider his options. As long as he stayed in the house, the Death Eaters couldn’t touch him, so he was as safe as he could be at the moment. He also doubted that Voldemort was close by, since it was fairly dangerous for those two Death Eaters to be out in the open. Besides, Harry hadn’t felt more than an annoying prickle in his scar for weeks.

The longer Harry thought about it, the more nervous he became. He had to do something – had to talk to someone. But who? And how?

He didn’t dare send Hedwig to anyone in the Order. Harry still remembered what she’d looked like after she’d been attacked during the first term of school last year, and he knew that the Death Eaters wouldn’t hesitate to kill her to get their hands on his confidential messages.

The floorboards shook as Dudley and his gang thundered down the stairs. Relieved that they hadn’t decided to harass him for a bit of fun, Harry had a sudden idea. He jumped off the bed and peeked out into the hallway. No sign of his aunt and uncle yet; Uncle Vernon must still be getting drunk. Harry quickly moved to Dudley’s room and pushed the door open just enough to see if there was anyone left behind. He found it empty and eased inside.

Crinkling his nose in disgust at the half-eaten pizza, piles of dirty clothes and discarded CDs, Harry scanned the room. Of course what he wanted wouldn’t be where it belonged. He searched a little longer and finally located Dudley’s cordless telephone. On his way out the door, the television caught his eye. He’d seen this old film several times and he was entranced as Steve McQueen’s character drove up and down the length of a barbed wire fence and attempted to jump his motorcycle over it to freedom before crashing spectacularly. The parallels between his prison on Privet Drive and the prison camp in The Great Escape were not lost on him.

Remembering the task at hand, Harry returned to his room, telephone in hand. He searched his desk for a number and quickly dialed it.

As the man answered, Harry glanced at the clock to see that it was nearly ten-thirty.

“I’m sorry to bother you so late, Mr. Granger. This is Harry Potter, and it’s very important that I speak to Hermione. Is she there?”

“It’s a bit late for her to be receiving calls. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

Harry shook his head, even though he knew Mr. Granger couldn’t see him. “No, I’m sorry, but it’s urgent. Something’s happened and I need her advice.”

Harry heard Mr. Granger grumble as he set the phone down. A minute later, Hermione was on the line.

“Harry, what’s wrong. Dad said you told him something happened. Are you all right?” Harry could hear her concern; he hadn’t meant to worry her.

“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just that I’ve discovered that my aunt and uncle’s house is being watched by Death Eaters.”

Hermione gasped. Composing herself a little, she timidly asked, “How do you know? Did you see them?”

Crap – he hadn’t meant to worry her like this. He shouldn’t have called. “Yeah. Uncle Vernon saw them and assumed they were in the Order, so I looked through my omnioculars and spotted Goyle’s dad and some other guy that sort of looks like Marcus Flint.”

“Do they know you saw them?”

“I don’t think so. I tried to hide in the curtains so they wouldn’t catch me looking out. Hermione, can you get word to Dumbledore? I don’t dare send Hedwig – they might attack her to keep me from sending messages.”

Hermione was quiet, speaking up only once to tell him she was still thinking. After what seemed like an eternity, she said, “Okay, I have a plan.”

“I knew you would. What is it?”

“My parents have a telephone number for Hogwarts. They give it out to Muggle parents for emergencies.”

Harry scrambled for his quill. “Brilliant. What’s the number?”

“No, Harry, I should call. They might have your telephone bugged as well. I’ll speak to Dumbledore as soon as I can. Someone will get back to you with instructions. In the meantime, Harry, don’t go anywhere.”

“I haven’t gone anywhere all summer. Why would I start now? Thanks, Hermione. I owe you for this one.”

“Don’t be silly, Harry. You don’t owe me anything. Just promise you’ll do exactly what Dumbledore tells you. No heroics.”

Ouch, that one hurt. Harry knew it was a thinly veiled reference to the disaster that had happened at the Department of Mysteries last term. “I promise,” he answered weakly.

“Okay. We’ll talk to you soon, Harry. Stay safe.”

“Thanks, Hermione.”

~*~*~

 

Harry had never been good at waiting. And though he wasn’t in immediate danger, he didn’t feel very safe, either. He finally fell asleep at four o’clock, completely worn out from frazzled nerves.

The eerie warble of a phoenix rousted Harry from his fitful sleep. He opened his eyes to see Fawkes perched on the end of his bed and an envelope lying at his feet. Harry quickly sat up, shook off his disorientation and opened the letter. He recognized Dumbledore’s loopy script at once.

_Received message. Prepare to leave at nightfall. Please convince the Dursleys to vacate their house for the evening, as their safety cannot otherwise be guaranteed. Notify Miss Granger of any problems._

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry swallowed hard. The note was obviously written in a hurry. Dumbledore was taking his predicament seriously, and Harry wasn’t sure if this was good or bad. He started as Fawkes disappeared with a flash, apparently having been required to wait only until Harry had read the message.

Harry rolled out of bed and stepped over to the window. He peered through the omnioculars again, and it took him several minutes before he located the wizard watching the house. Harry didn’t recognize him, but judging from Dumbledore’s decision to take action, it was unlikely that it was someone from the Order.

As he went about packing up his things, Harry tried to think of an excuse to get the Dursleys to leave for the evening. He wished he could use Tonks’ brilliant award scheme from last summer, but he doubted even the Dursleys were stupid enough to fall for that twice.

By late afternoon, Harry’s last load of clothes was out of the wash and he had crammed everything else he needed into his trunk. He still hadn’t come up with a plan for the Dursleys, so his only remaining option was to confide in Aunt Petunia.

“What are you up to?” Aunt Petunia asked, suspiciously narrowing her eyes as he carried his clean laundry up the stairs. “Why are you washing clothes?”

Harry wanted to point out that, unlike his cousin, he frequently washed his own clothes, but decided instead to entreat her to help him. “They’re coming for me tonight,” he said.

He watched the blood drain from her face. “Who? Dumbledore and those… others?”

“Yes. Well, I’m not sure exactly who will be here. But I’m supposed to get you to leave the house.” He stared at Aunt Petunia, who looked quite displeased with this pronouncement.

“We’ll do no such thing,” she said through pursed lips. “It’s bad enough that they’re watching our house. Vernon will never put up with having to leave just because they are coming here to get you. Tell them to pick you up at the corner.”

“Aunt Petunia, I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. Professor Dumbledore wants you to leave because it won’t be safe.” Harry paused for dramatic effect. “Those people watching the house are the ones who want me dead, and he’s afraid they’ll storm the house when they see me trying to leave and kill anyone who’s here… including Dudley.”

Harry’s threat had the desired effect; Aunt Petunia’s hands began to shake as she worked through the implications of Harry’s words. “B-But you’re supposed to be s-safe here.”

“I might be safe, but what about the rest of you? Do you really think my mother’s sacrifice is going to protect Uncle Vernon?” Harry was getting annoyed. He really didn’t care at all whether the Dursleys were harmed, except that it would make things unnecessarily complicated for Dumbledore if they had to explain the circumstances of Muggle injuries to the Ministry of Magic.

Aunt Petunia looked distraught. She didn’t want to hear what Harry was saying, yet he could tell that, on some level, she believed him. “I suppose we could go out for the evening,” she said slowly. “Perhaps Vernon would agree to take us to the cinema.”

“You’d better get him to agree to dinner as well, because I’m not sure how long this is going to take.” Harry turned to leave, but Aunt Petunia caught him by the arm, spinning him around to face her.

“Not a day goes by when I don’t curse the memory of my sister and all the hardship she brought me. I wouldn’t be doing any of this if it weren’t for Dudley. I can’t let them do to him what they did to her.”

Harry wasn’t about to stand around and listen to his mum’s memory being insulted. “Fine,” he spat. “Take your spoilt son and stay away from here tonight. I’ll be out of your hair for the rest of the summer.” He stormed up the stairway, slamming his bedroom door once he went inside.

~*~*~

 

All evening, Harry was as nervous as a cat, keeping a constant eye on the Death Eaters who were watching him. There were still only two: Crabbe’s father, and McNair, the executioner. He felt like a prisoner in the house, yet he knew that he was safer here than anywhere else.

Uncle Vernon returned home from work at half-past five. He was not happy about his wife’s request to go out for the evening, but he agreed nonetheless. His mood improved considerably when he learned that Harry would be gone for good by the time they got back. Harry noted with interest that Aunt Petunia hadn’t told him the whole story.

Aunt Petunia lured Dudley to join them by offering to let him choose the restaurant, and by quarter past seven, Harry was finally alone in the house. He hauled his trunk downstairs and fixed himself a sandwich, which lay mostly untouched an hour later. Dusk was just settling in when Harry heard the doorbell.

He hadn’t really expected them to ring, but he rushed to answer the door. As soon as he began to open it, three of Dudley’s gang pushed their way inside.

“Where’s Dud?” grunted Piers.

Harry panicked. He’d forgotten that Dudley’s friends came over every night and acted like they owned the place. “He’s gone out with his mum and dad. You’ll have to leave.”

He knew the moment he said it that they would take it as a challenge. The three bigger boys surrounded Harry and glowered at him menacingly.

“Who’s gonna make us? You?” The dark-haired boy, Dennis, shoved Harry into Piers, who shoved him back at Gordon. Each of these boys had beaten up Harry multiple times over the years, and showed no hesitation to do it again this evening. Gordon jabbed his elbow into Harry’s chest, which fortunately missed knocking the wind out of him by a few inches.

Harry was far more concerned about having Dudley’s friends see the Order members than he was about being beaten up. Quickly gathering his wits, Harry said, “Fine, suit yourself. It’s not my problem if you want to get yourself killed.”

Piers grabbed at Harry’s shirt. “What are you talking about?”

“Gas leak. I’m waiting for the gas company to show up any minute.” Piers let go of Harry’s shirt and looked to his chums for confirmation.

“I don’t smell anything,” Dennis said suspiciously.

“It’s carbon monoxide gas – you can’t smell it and it’s deadly,” replied Harry quickly. He knew Piers was stupid, but he wasn’t too sure about the others. They glanced nervously at one another and then shrugged.

“It’s no fun here if we can’t annoy the old man, anyway. Let’s go.” Piers shoved Harry hard against the wall, and the two others followed him out the door. Harry heaved a huge sigh of relief as he rapidly shut the door behind them.

“All right, Harry?”

The calm voice of Remus Lupin coming from behind him caused Harry to nearly jump out of his skin.

“Holy crap - you scared me!” Harry’s heart was beating rapidly, adrenaline coursing through his veins. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m used to them.” He took a deep breath before asking, “When did you get here?”

“Sorry. I Apparated into the kitchen just as those boys were coming into the house.” Remus looked around, and his eyes landed on Harry’s trunk, which was resting in the dining room. “All ready to go?”

Harry nodded. “Yes. I just have to let Hedwig out and get her cage. What’s the plan?”

“Quite simple, actually. Mad-Eye and Kingsley are standing by, ready to stun the Death Eaters who are watching the house. As soon as they’re out of commission, we fly out on broomsticks, just like last year.”

“Oh, okay. Wait a minute. Remus, I don’t have my broomstick. It’s still locked up at Hogwarts.”

Remus pulled his wand from an inside pocket and cast a summoning charm. Harry’s Firebolt came racing down the hall at record speed. With a broad smile across his face, Harry caught it deftly with one hand, fighting back the urge to hug it.

Remus walked over to the window and carefully looked outside from behind the curtains. “The others will be here in about fifteen minutes. I came ahead in case you needed a hand getting the Dursleys to leave.”

It was getting dark in the house now that the sun had set. Harry and Remus stood together in the semi-darkness, looking out the window. “Is there something going on? Why is Dumbledore so concerned about me being watched?”

Remus stepped away from the window and looked Harry in the eye. “Professor Dumbledore is surprised that the Death Eater activity is happening right out in the open. Either Voldemort is being very foolhardy, or more likely, he wants us to know that he knows where you are and he’s ready to deal with you the minute you leave the safety of Privet Drive.”

“Not that I’m complaining or anything, but if I’m safe here, why is Dumbledore moving me?”

A wide grin spread across Remus’s face. “He thought you’d rather be with your friends.”

Harry temporarily forgot that he was still angry with Dumbledore as his heart swelled with gratitude. “Yeah, of course I would.”

“You’d best let Hedwig out now,” said Remus. “The others will be here in a few minutes. Send her to Order Headquarters – that’s where we’ll eventually end up.”

“Do you think she’ll be all right? I didn’t send her to Dumbledore last night because I was afraid the Death Eaters might intercept her and kill her.”

Remus thought for moment. “Show me where she is,” he said.

Harry took the stairs two at a time, with Remus following close behind. In an instant, Remus cast what Harry recognized to be a Disillusionment charm on Hedwig. It was very difficult to see her unless you knew what you were looking for.

Harry felt much better about letting her leave. He gave her instructions to meet him at Grimmauld Place, and heaved a great sigh of relief when he had trouble seeing her fly off.

Harry grabbed Hedwig’s empty cage and hurried to join Remus who had gone back downstairs to investigate a noise. At the bottom of the stairway, he nearly crashed into Tonks as she Apparated in.

“Sorry,” muttered Harry, veering off to one side to avoid hitting her.

Tonks took the opportunity to sling an arm around Harry (which also prevented her from falling) and greet him with a friendly, “Wotcher, Harry!”

“Hello, Tonks.” Tonks was sporting short black hair that matched her black t-shirt, jeans and leather jacket.

She took a step back and surveyed him from head to toe. “Do these people feed you, or do they just put you on a rack and stretch you at night? I can’t believe you’re taller than me now. But you need some of Molly’s cooking to fatten you up.”

“My aunt has put us all on Dudley’s diet again, so yeah, food would be nice.” Harry paused, unsure of whether he should bring up the last time he saw her. Deciding it would be impolite not to, he continued, “So, er, you recovered all right then? After that… night at the Ministry?”

Tonks absently lifted her hand and placed it over her heart. “Yes, I’m fine now. It’ll take more than that to bring this witch down. Hurt like the devil, though.”

Harry slumped against the wall, momentarily overtaken again by the guilt he felt over events that had happened at the end of last term. He should never have left Hogwarts – should never have tried to play the hero. And he should have tried harder at Occlumency. Then no one would have gotten hurt. And Sirius would be…

“Anyway, Harry, check out what I just bought this afternoon.” Tonks held out a brand new Nimbus Grand Prix racing broom. “I looked at the new QuantumLeaps, but decided it wouldn’t be responsible of me to leave you in the dust,” she said with a wink.

Harry ran his hand along the sleek cherry handle, completely free of nicks and smudges, unlike his Firebolt. Just touching it made him antsy to fly again.

“It’s beautiful. But you didn’t buy it just to come here and get me, did you?”

Tonks smiled and nodded her head slightly. “Let’s just say that this was a great excuse to spend an outrageous number of galleons on myself. I couldn’t allow myself to be outflown by a teenager. Besides, I’ll clean up at the Interdepartmental Quidditch tournament this year.”

Harry caught a glimpse of his jacket hanging on the coat rack and hastily put it on. He hadn’t forgotten how cold it had been flying so high at night in only his shirtsleeves, even in August. As he did so, several other Order members Apparated in.

Remus was counting people to see who was missing. “Seven,” he said aloud. “Kingsley and Mad-Eye are taking up different positions, but we should still have eight.”

“Where’s Charlie?” asked Tonks.

Harry’s eyes opened wide. “Charlie Weasley?”

Tonks nodded. “Yeah, Dumbledore convinced him to take a holiday from the dragon reserve in Romania for a few weeks. This sort of mission is perfect for him.” She moved closer to Harry and whispered, “But I think he’s only riding a Cleansweep.”

They milled around in the dark for a few more minutes, Remus getting obviously more agitated the longer Charlie didn’t show up. He sent Dedalus Diggle upstairs to watch for Moody’s signal from the bedroom window. Harry was on edge just from watching Remus pace the floor. Finally, a very winded Charlie Weasley Apparated into the kitchen and burst into the darkened front hall.

“We might have trouble,” he said loudly to the group assembled there. “We just got word from Sn-…er, one of our spies that there was an unexpected meeting called for You-Know-Who’s inner circle of Death Eaters about fifteen minutes ago. We don’t know whether he knows what we’re up to, but Dumbledore thinks it’s too great a coincidence. He thinks we should—”

Charlie was interrupted by the pop of Dedalus Diggle Apparating into the room. “Moody’s given the sign,” he interrupted. “They’ll be taking out the Death Eaters any second now.”

“Damn!” cried Remus. “Well, I suppose it’s too late to abort now. We won’t be able to get a message to Moody and Shacklebolt before they disable the Death Eaters, so we’ll just have to risk it.” He turned to Charlie. “What was Dumbledore going to have us do?”

Charlie smiled. “He said we should use our best judgment.”

Remus turned to Harry. “Are you up for this? It might be very exciting, and not in a good way.”

There was no way that Harry was going to be this close to freedom without making a run for it, even if it might be dangerous. “Yes, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

The group hooted before being hushed by Remus. “Listen, we all thought this would be a walk in the park like last year, but we might actually have to implement Mad-Eye’s ‘Plan B.’ Is everyone clear on their positions?” There was a general murmur of consent from the crowd except for Harry, who shook his head.

“Harry, no matter what happens, you’re to follow Tonks. She’ll be your escort all the way to Headquarters. Even if you hear sounds of fighting, stay on her tail as if she’s an opposing team’s Seeker who’s about to catch the Snitch. If anything should happen to Tonks, Charlie is her backup. If you end up with no one to follow, then fly like the wind and get yourself to Order Headquarters any way you can.”

Remus turned to the others. “I need a volunteer to take Harry’s things. If we’ve been discovered, we can’t afford to have Tonks weighted down with a trunk.” Hestia Jones stepped forward to volunteer, and she went with Remus down the hall.

“So do you think he’s going to, er, send them after us?” Harry’s stomach clenched as Charlie nodded his head.

“Much as I hate to admit it, Snape’s almost always right, and he had a very bad feeling about this.” Charlie tried to plaster a false smile on his face. “Don’t worry, though, because Tonks will get you out of here safe and sound with that new broom of hers.”

Tonks winked at Charlie. “What’s that you’ve got there? A Shooting Star?”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “No – it’s my little brother’s – a Cleansweep 11. My last broom was torched by a Chinese Fireball, and I didn’t see much point in replacing it.”

There was a loud pop, followed by Mad-Eye Moody shouting, “Why in blazes is everyone standing around? Let’s move it!”

Kinglsey appeared a few moments later, and Charlie apprised them of the new developments. The news of a potential spanner in the works made Moody even more gruff that usual. He moved the group into the kitchen, where he cast a Disillusion charm on each person as they went out the door into the garden.

Hestia immediately took off with Harry’s things, and as he watched them fade quickly into the darkness, Harry’s stomach knotted with anticipation. He mounted his Firebolt and watched the eastern sky for the all-clear sign to be sent up.

Suddenly a cracking noise echoed through the garden, and Harry looked around to see that they were surrounded by approximately twenty Death Eaters. Remus shouted, “Go!” so Harry pushed off hard from the ground. Tonks was in front of him, also ascending quickly – he couldn’t really see her because of the Disillusionment charm, but he knew she was there by the reflection of the moonlight off her broom. Instinctively, he moved erratically, employing his well-practiced moves for dodging Bludgers, just in case the Death Eaters were throwing hexes at him.

Harry chanced a backwards glance and saw a ball of fire heading directly for three Death Eaters who had their wands raised. It had been thrown by Charlie, who was some twenty feet behind him and clearly visible. Moody must not have had time to Disillusion him. Rising higher and higher and still moving from side to side, Harry looked down to see Death Eaters lying on the ground and Aunt Petunia’s favorite elm tree on fire.

Remembering that Remus had told him to keep going no matter what happened, Harry flew onwards, keeping Tonks in his sights, but varying his movements still. He heard spells whooshing past him, but didn’t look back. Just when Harry thought they’d gotten away free and clear, he heard a loud yelp from Charlie’s direction.

“Damn! I’m hit!” cried Charlie. Harry turned and could see Charlie’s broom smoking. It faltered and began to lose altitude quickly. They were a good three hundred feet above the ground, and if Charlie couldn’t stop himself, he wouldn’t survive the crash.

Harry could remember Lupin telling him to stay with Tonks no matter what. But as he watched Charlie in a freefall, he knew he’d never be able to live with himself if he didn’t at least try to help him.

Without giving a thought to the spells that were still being hurtled in Charlie’s direction, Harry went into one of his trademarked steep dives, determined to save Charlie from falling, or at least slow him down. It was difficult to see him in the dark, but every few seconds the moonlight would catch his broom. Pushing his Firebolt to its limits, Harry was able to pull up along side Charlie’s sinking broom.

But they were losing altitude fast, and they didn’t have more than a few seconds before it would be the two of them crashing into the ground.

“Take my hand,” Harry screamed, reaching out with one hand and gripping his Firebolt with the other. Charlie couldn’t see him, though, and he missed a couple of times before finally grabbing Harry’s arm and pulling himself closer. The sudden addition of Charlie’s weight caused Harry’s broom to nosedive, and he completely lost control. Charlie flung his leg over the broom and counterbalanced, just as Harry had given up hope of regaining control. Harry pulled them out of the dive about six feet before they collided with the ground, and they shot forward another twenty yards before their momentum carried them into the soft grass of an open field and they tumbled off the Firebolt.

Neither of them said anything for a while as they tried to catch their breath.

“You okay?” groaned Charlie.

“Yeah. You?”

“Except for being scared shitless, I’m fine. I think that may have been one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done,” panted Charlie. “But thank you. I don’t think I’d have survived that fall.”

Harry smiled, even though he knew Charlie couldn’t see it. He vaguely heard Hermione’s voice in the back of his mind saying, “No heroics,” but he knew he’d made the right choice. “I’m glad that the broom got the hex and not you,” he said. “Ron’s not going to be too happy about his broom, though, is he?”

“No. But I’ll get him another one. Harry, do you think you can find your way to London all right? Because I can just Apparate from here.”

Harry pulled out his wand and cast the four points spell he’d used so effectively in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. “That way is due north, so I need to head over there.” Harry pointed, knowing full well that Charlie couldn’t see it. I’ll be fine – the Death Eaters won’t be expecting me to be flying over London all alone on my broomstick.”

Harry and Charlie jumped as they heard a loud thumping noise right beside them. “Who says you’re going to be alone?” asked Tonks’s voice. Harry breathed a sigh of relief; as confident as he was in his ability to get himself to Order Headquarters, it would be much better with Tonks helping him find his way.

“How in God’s name did you find us?” Charlie asked.

“I heard you say you were hit, and when I couldn’t find Harry, I figured he went after you. A simple heat-seeking charm was all it took. Speaking of which, there’s no reason the Death Eaters couldn’t use it too, so we’d better get a move on.”

Charlie clapped Harry on the shoulder again. “See you back at Headquarters. And Harry, thanks.” He pulled out his wand and Disapparated.

“You know Mad-Eye will kill you for not following orders. You were supposed to stay with me no matter what.” Tonks sounded stern but not particularly angry.

“I couldn’t just let him die. Too many have already died because of me,” said Harry quietly. There was an awkward silence and Harry was glad that Tonks couldn’t see his face.

“Right. Well, Moody won’t hear about this from me. Let’s see – where the hell are we?” muttered Tonks. She looked around them, searching for some kind of landmark to get them headed in the right direction.

“North is that way – straight over that thicket,” supplied Harry helpfully. “So I think we need to head over towards that house.”

Harry and Tonks kicked off again, ascending quickly on their broomsticks. Tonks leaned over towards Harry and said, “What do you say we put these brooms through their paces and see how fast we can go? I don’t fancy being out here any longer than we have to.”

“I don’t know – are you sure you’ll be able to keep up?” teased Harry. He was a little cold and knew that going faster would make him colder, but a race with Tonks would keep his mind off the chill.

Tonks didn’t answer, but she lurched forward, doubling her speed. Not wanting to be left behind, Harry followed and was able to catch up quickly. It was much easier to see Tonks at this speed. He looked down only once, and realized just exactly how fast they were going. It was thrilling, though, especially after having gone eight months without flying.

In what seemed like half the time it took to get there the year before, Harry and Tonks landed quietly in the yard at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. They quickly went inside. He was free at last.

~*~*~

 

Vernon turned the car onto Privet Drive and his heart sank. Firemen were cutting charred branches from the large elm that stood in the back yard. When they got out of the car, Vernon went to examine the state of his lawn. It was a shambles. Large divots of grass were sticking up from the ground, and a ten-foot branch of the elm tree had been charred beyond recognition. A glance at the roof indicated that it might have been on fire at one time and repaired by magic. Bewildered, Vernon wandered inside.

Petunia, meanwhile, was lamenting the fact that her carpets had been trampled on, and there were muddy tracks up and down the hallway. She was nearly hysterical when Vernon told her what had happened to their yard.

Vernon poured himself a drink before he sank into a chair. “Is he gone?” he asked Petunia.

“I-I think so. His room is empty, and that bird is gone.”

“Good.” Vernon rested his head on the back of the armchair. He was just about to speak again when half a dozen large boys thundered down the hallway and up the stairs to Dudley’s room. Vernon sighed. He was not having a good summer.

 

_finis_


End file.
